


Experiences of a Jerk

by crookedmen



Category: Welcome to Night Vale
Genre: Gen, Steve Carlsberg is Not a Jerk, i just wanted to write about my favourite man, mention of mental illness/breakdown, some of this may not quite line up with canon, very light gore
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-29
Updated: 2020-04-29
Packaged: 2021-03-01 21:46:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,518
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23914042
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crookedmen/pseuds/crookedmen
Summary: Some snippets from the life of Night Vale's biggest jerk, Steve Carlsberg. Because he is a jerk, right?Set before Episode 110 (Matryoshka)
Relationships: Carlos/Cecil Palmer, Steve Carlsberg/Abby Palmer
Comments: 7
Kudos: 19





	Experiences of a Jerk

Steve was very happy working with the PTA. More than anything, he was relieved. His brief stint as a teacher ended unceremoniously once City Council got wind of what he was telling the kids in between their state-approved lessons. Due to either laziness, or luck, or there always being more important things to deal with, the PTA never looked into his background and he landed the secretary job. At least, that’s how he told the story.

Just as well, Steve always thought, that there had been more news than usual the day he was fired. It was the only reason Cecil hadn’t broadcast his sacking to all of Night Vale. 

Things were going well for Steve, even if he did feel like an outsider most of the time. But at the end of a long day, he would drive home past old woman Josie’s house and wave to her angels, and they would wave back. When he got home he would untie his hair and tuck it behind his ears.

. . .

Sometimes Carlos would go rogue. He was a scientist, after all, and everyone in Night Vale knew how headstrong and rebellious that made you. Carlos never went _missing_ , per se, but after a few days out researching Cecil’s radio updates on him would start to sound more strained. Janice would frequently ask after her uncle when he got like that, wondering if he was okay without uncle Carlos keeping him company. Steve would look over his shoulder comically, then whisper that he had his sources, because he knew pretending to be a secret agent made Janice giggle. He would reassure his daughter that Cecil was doing just fine.

Late at night, when Janice and Abby were doing whatever Night Vale had substituted sleeping for, Steve would go outside and check on those sources of his. If Carlos’s absence was starting to creep under Cecil’s skin, he knew to check up on him. Cecil hated it, of course, but a bit of annoyance always pulled him out of his thoughts. It was like clockwork. Carlos would return, Cecil would perk back up, and Steve imagined that he would tell Carlos all about how frustrating it was to have Steve Carlsberg pop by for a chat.

. . .

People were looking at him weirdly- more than usual. Steve couldn’t ignore the looks and occasional points in his direction. He placed the shopping basket by the cashier, smiling at them as he did so. 

‘’All good, Steve?’’

‘’Yep, can’t complain. You?’’

‘’I’m good… have you listened to the radio today?’’

‘’Oh, no, not today.’’

‘’But you sent that letter in?’’

‘’Oh, not again. It was meant for City Council, I wanted to warn them about-‘’

‘’Well whatever it was, it didn’t get read out. Cecil just mentioned that you’d sent in another one and how you were wasting your time. I think he called you a jerk, actually.’’

Steve laughed, and it was very convincing. ‘’That Cecil! He’s a funny one. Oh well, what can you do?’’

He paid, and took a longer, quieter route home, so that he could force down the lump in his throat and clear the shame burning on his face before he got there.

That was a long time ago. Nowadays he barely even went red when Cecil told Night Vale what a killjoy, or a spoilsport, or a non-patriot he was. Instead he laughed it off as usual and convinced Abby not to worry.

. . .

Thanksgiving had gone well. It had been nice for Carlos to formally meet Cecil’s family. The initial awkwardness of knowing the man so well through the radio while not knowing him at all was quickly broken through. Most of the evening had seen Cecil and Janice messing around and laughing, while Carlos and Abby found some common ground, and Steve kept an eye on the food in the kitchen. His apron read ‘’good food rots pleasantly inside you’’ accompanied by a cute little embroidered fork, and it made him smile. 

He poked his head round Janice’s bedroom door, seeing her and Cecil staring fervently at her toy dolls. He remembered this game from his own childhood- whoever could move the doll with their mind first was the winner. ‘’Anyone in here fancy a cookie? They’re still hot!’’

‘’No thanks,’’ replied Cecil curtly, in a monotone. His eyes were fixed on a plush worm toy, one of Janice’s favourites.

‘’Janice?’’

‘’I’m okay- uncle Cecil and I are playing a game right now.’’

‘’Oops, sorry you two. I didn’t mean to interrupt. I’ll save you both some for when you’re done.’’

He headed back down the corridor, and as he did he could hear Janice and Cecil chatting, and Cecil’s voice had returned to its full, flowing softness. 

Later, once Abby had put Janice to bed and after Steve had crept in to give her a goodnight kiss, Cecil and Carlos made their excuses to leave.

‘’Are you sure?’’ asked Abby. ‘’We were just about to have a drink.’’

‘’Oh, were you?’’ replied Cecil. ‘’Steve didn’t offer me one.’’

‘’I just didn’t want to interrupt you and Janice again,’’ Steve offered, hating how apologetic he sounded, so desperate to avoid Cecil's scorn for just one night.

‘’Really, don’t worry. Thank you so much for having us. It was lovely to see you again, Abby.’’ Cecil gave Abby a delicate hug and Carlos, ever the friendlier of the two, kissed her on the cheek. 

‘’Hope to see y’all again soon!’’ called Steve, but the door had already been shut.  


Thanksgiving had gone well, he told himself. 

. . .

The letters Steve wrote were never intended for Night Vale Community Radio. He always addressed them to City Council, but as with any form of correspondence, it was frequently intercepted by the Secret Police and redirected somewhere they knew no one would take it seriously. Sometimes even the City Council themselves posted them on to someone else who might give a damn.

This never bothered Steve much. He was sure some of his letters were read by their intended recipients. And having Cecil read them out- or at least, read the first few lines before realising who had written it- still got the message out. Until that message went a little further than intended, and Steve was bundled into a van and swiftly taken for re-education. Again.

‘’You’ve switched up your look,’’ commented Cecil the next time he saw him. They were both at the school, watching Janice absolutely _crush_ the opposing basketball team, and Steve had steadfastly refused to let Cecil stand away from him. When Janice looked over and beamed at the two of them, it more than made up for Cecil’s grumbling. In between shouts of excitement and encouragement, they were enduring snippets of polite conversation.

‘’My look?’’

‘’Your hair,’’ Cecil said. ‘’It’s- hanging lower. Than before. Yeah.’’

Steve reached up and re-positioned his low ponytail awkwardly. A thick strand of hair hung over his left eye and the rest trailed around his face. ‘’Thanks. I thought it was time for a change, you know.’’

‘’Mm.’’

‘’Not a patch on your Carlos’s hair, though!’’ he quipped. For a second Steve thought he saw a brief smile, and then someone scored, and the moment was lost in the roar of the crowd.

. . .

‘’You never thanked me, you know. I don’t mind, I really don’t, I was just surprised is all. I called so many times afterwards and you never picked up.’’

‘’Whuh… what?’’ Cecil mumbled as he cleaned his glasses, only half listening. The radio equipment glowed orange in the sunset, and the building was silent save for Cecil and his unwelcome visitor. Cecil put his glasses back on and looked round at Steve with a patronising smile on his face. ‘’Thank you for what?’’

‘’For, you know… the incident. After you went to Desert Bluffs.’’ Cecil looked on blankly, and Steve’s voice grew stiff with realisation. ‘’You mean you don’t know?’’

‘’Know what? Look, Steve, I never have time for you as it is, but if you’re just going to be weird as usual-‘’

‘’That night. The week after the sandstorm. You know,’’ Steve tried to tread gently, ‘’when you were quite- upset.’’

‘’After what night? I was fine- I _am_ fine.’’

‘’What you saw in Desert Bluffs wasn’t normal,’’ Steve said, more fiercely than he had intended, ‘’I feel like I’m the only one who truly understands that. And it’s okay, Cecil. It’s okay to feel afraid.’’

‘’Steve, what do you w-‘’

‘’I’m the one who found you, Cecil,’’ Steve pushed on, staring deep in Cecil’s eyes. He knew eye contact was frowned upon in Night Vale and he saw Cecil falter slightly. ‘’I uncurled your fingers from around the microphone and took the headphones off you. They had left circular creases in your hair and I laughed. I hauled you up and dragged you to my car.’’

‘’Stop it,’’ Cecil forced, not quite managing to break eye contact. 

‘’I knew how hard you’d been holding it together on air. Everyone thought you had gotten over it.’’

‘’Stop it!’’

‘’That night, something told me you weren’t right. I didn’t want to disturb anyone, so I just got myself to the studio, and that’s where I found you. Now look, I consider myself a calm man, but I know a nervous breakdown when I see one. It wasn’t Carlos, or Dana, who drove you home that night. They didn’t clean the sick off your chin or lay you in bed. It was me.’’

‘’So you had a hunch,’’ Cecil snapped. ‘’You didn’t have to go to that length, Steve, if Abby wanted to know how I was-‘’

‘’I didn’t do it for Abby’s sake! You don’t know me at all, Cecil. I don’t know why you hate me and at this point I don’t care,’’ Steve lied, ‘’but at least hate me for reasons that are actually true. I checked in on you because I care about you, I knew you were having a hard time and I wanted to make sure you were okay. It’s not complicated!’’

He was shocked at his own outburst. Cecil was rigid in his chair- as he always was. When he eventually spoke, it was slow and methodical, the same voice that had reassured everyone just how composed he was after the sandstorm.

‘’So you want me to thank you.’’

‘’I- ugh,’’ Steve screwed his face up. ‘’I want you to know that I’m not a bad person. I care about you, and you can trust me.’’

‘’How can I trust you, Steve? How does this make me trust you? The fact you know so much forbidden information seemingly from nowhere, the fact you read _books_ , the fact you know every single time I’m feeling rough? God, you have no idea how annoying it is finishing up in here, turning around and having a fifty percent chance of seeing you peering at me with those hollow eyes of yours. Or, in fact, the one hollow eye. Covering up half your face with your hair isn’t cool, Steve. It’s not 2013 anymore.’’

Steve flinched, straightening up. ‘’You- you wanna see my eye?’’ 

He raked his hands carelessly through his scalp, scraping the delicately positioned hair behind his ear. His left eye- what was left of it- was dark red, his pupil barely registering, and his sliced up socket sagged down. The skin around it was purple and scarred. 

‘’I hide it because I don’t want people to know what they do once all other forms of re-education have failed. All the other scars are easy to hide, and they knew that, so they thought they’d better do my eye as well.’’

It took Cecil a long time to speak. ‘’What did- why did they do that to you?’’

‘’One of my letters ended up on your desk again. I didn’t mean for it to. And once, just once, you read the whole thing out. The Sheriff didn’t take kindly to my ideas being spread to the whole town. He thought he’d teach me a lesson,’’ Steve let himself breathe, until he felt back to normal. ‘’Really Cecil, it’s not too bad. It was my own foolish self. Hurt like hell when they did it, sure, but I know better than anyone that re-education just does not work on me. I’m still the same old Steve Carlsberg. I know that you probably wish I wasn’t, but…’’ he trailed off. Cecil didn’t say anything. ‘’Listen, I should probably head home- I’m tired. I don’t know if this accomplished anything, and I’m sorry for wasting your time. Goodbye, Cecil.’’

He left, quickly readjusting his hair, and Cecil took his glasses off so he could rub the sight of Steve out of his eyes.

. . .

The next day, Steve sent Cecil a text, apologising if he went too far. He made sure to sign it with his name, since he wasn’t sure if Cecil had bothered to ever save his number. He put his phone in his bag and got on with his day, forgetting about it until he switched on the radio on his drive home. Cecil’s voice was a familiar comfort after a long day, and he was enjoying hearing about the community events for the next week, until a quip about him jerked him out of his haze. Normally, Steve wouldn’t even register a minor joke, since they were so common, but tonight was different. He parked and checked his phone. 

No reply. It was as if last night hadn’t happened. Things were back to normal, then. At least the joke was funny.

. . .

‘’….now for another edition of our ever-popular advice column…’’ mumbled the radio. Steve turned it down a few notches, because he wanted to make sure he could be heard. 

‘’The bottom line is, I know how this town works, and I know how we can launch an appeal to City Council,’’ he said, dipping a cookie into his herbal tea. He knew it was weird, and Abby always laughed at him for it, but it just tasted so nice.

Old woman Josie looked at him evenly. The angels seemed to be interested, but they each had so many eyes it was impossible to tell whether they were even looking at him. Either way, he was certainly looking back at them. Looking, and seeing. Josie raised a hand to them and the protective huddle they had formed backed off. 

‘’Steve, I really appreciate all this-‘’

‘’I’m serious! I write them letters all the time, and I’m sure I know how to get through to them by now, I could handle everything- we could finally legalise your angels!’’

‘’Look, you’re a very dedicated guy,’’ Josie said. She spoke with all the splendour of someone who knew how to really choose their words. She was choosing them very carefully right now. ‘’I’m just not sure if you wouldn’t actually hurt this campaign, rather than help it?’’

‘’I’m sorry?’’

‘’I think City Council would listen to someone a bit more, well, established.’’

‘’I’ve lived here my whole life…’’

‘’You know what I mean, honey. And I’m sorry to have to burst your bubble like this. But imagine how everyone would react if they saw the most re-educated guy in Night Vale fighting my cause.’’ She saw Steve shrink after this, and offered him another cookie, which he accepted. ‘’I don’t mind, but a lot of other people do. And I don’t want to get you in trouble either.’’

‘’Okay, I suppose that’s true,’’ Steve sniffed, giving Josie a smile. ‘’You know where I am if you change your mind.’’

He got up and brushed the crumbs off his shirt, oblivious to Josie’s frown. 

‘’Would you mind turning the radio back up before you go? I think Cecil’s still on.’’

‘’Oh, yeah, sure.’’

‘’Now, Cecil, he would be a good ally to have. Maybe you could convince him?’’

Steve tried not to groan in a nice old lady’s company. ‘’I’ll see you around, Josie. Bye, Erikas.’’

. . .

‘’How were the PTA today, Stevie?’’ asked Abby. The pair had melted lazily onto the sofa, listening to the white noise from the TV. It was their favourite show, and they never missed it. 

‘’It was fine,’’ he replied. The TV glare lay across the contours of his face like floodlights on tarmac. ‘’The usual. Get this: they told me I was _weird_ for talking about the holes in the sky.’’

‘’Oh?’’

‘’Yeah! I said to them, I said, can’t you see? Haven’t you ever looked up? They’re right there. But they all just laughed patiently and pretended to eat my scones.’’

‘’Well there’s another thing we have in common. We both see things no one else does.’’

‘’You do?’’ Steve asked. ‘’What do you see?’’

‘’I see a kind, handsome, thoughtful, gentle man. And I married him!’’

‘’Oh- Abby-’’

‘’Whoa,’’ laughed Abby as she was swallowed up in a hug. ‘’Hey- aw- Stevie, don’t cry!’’

. . .

‘’I just don’t see why the Sheriff wanted to make an example of you,’’ said Cecil, several months after their first heated dialogue. 

‘’Pardon?’’  


Steve had been sent to Cecil’s apartment to drop off some photo albums that Abby had made. Carlos, sensing the tension in the air, had made a very scientific sounding excuse to leave and hightailed it out of there. Cecil hadn’t asked Steve if he wanted to stay and chat, but he had sat down anyway. No time like the present to form a bond, he always told himself.

‘’I’m sorry Steve, but I simply do not see why you continue to believe in this stuff if it gets you in this much trouble. Surely if your arguments are so sound you could just explain them to the Secret Police?’’

Steve was so shocked he could only laugh. ‘’Are you trying to upset me into leaving? I just wanted to ask how you and Carlos are doing before I left-‘’

‘’I’m genuinely curious!’’ Cecil replied. 

‘’Well, I think they suspect me of fraternising with outsiders, and that’s where all my knowledge comes from. They were trying to get some information on them, but they were barking up the wrong tree! I don’t know any outsiders except Carlos!’’

‘’Well why couldn’t you tell them that?’’

‘’Your problem, Cecil, is that you have no idea how it feels to know no one is listening to you.’’

‘’Excuse me?’’

‘’It’s true.’’

‘’I’ve had to sit in my booth and watch while Night Vale puts its citizens into real danger. Carlos almost died and I was stuck in my chair like I’d put down roots. I was shouting into the void for someone to help him and for what? If it weren’t for his own strength he would have gone. I couldn’t do anything to save him, and _no one was listening to me_.’’

Cecil was always so dramatic, Steve thought. ‘’Look, not being obeyed is not the same is not being heard. All those times monsters have been let loose in downtown, or Hiram has launched some attack, or a freak weather event has almost killed us, I have actually been there. I don’t have a booth to protect me! Carlos is a fully grown, smart man. He’s fine. Janice, on the other hand, is a little girl, and I need to protect her, and no one _listens_ when I try to explain that our town is not safe! And when I do get close, when anyone starts to understand, they turn on your radio show and listen to you berate me and it’s back to square one. People listen to you, Cecil. _Everyone_ listens to you.’’

Cecil was quiet for once, and Steve braced himself for the scorn he was so used to, but as he realised that Cecil had not laughed at him, or said anything at all, he finally brought his eye up to Cecil’s. 

His brother-in-law was looking down at the photo album in his hands. Steve watched as he gently removed one picture from its pocket to study it closer. It was a picture of Steve and Abby on their wedding day, Abby’s smile the biggest it had ever been, and Steve’s two eyes twinkling with happiness. The hand holding the photograph was calloused and bumpy from all those years of holding that same microphone, day in and day out.

‘’I know you think I’m being ridiculous, but I can feel so useless in my booth,’’ Cecil said softly, ‘’I couldn’t get out, even if I wanted to. I’m trapped in the system, and you-‘’

‘’I’m trapped outside of it,’’ Steve finished. 

‘’How…’’ Cecil mumbled. ‘’How did you know when I was suffering?’’

‘’I have my sources,’’ said Steve pleasantly. ‘’They help me understand this town better, and I think they’ve helped me to understand you, too.’’

Cecil was entirely unsatisfied with that answer, but Steve decided he could have a few secrets that wouldn’t end up broadcast on the radio. He said goodbye to his brother-in-law, and walked outside into the deep, familiar night. 

Steve Carlsberg looked up at the glowing arrows in the sky, and smiled.


End file.
